


The tales her mother told

by TSerpillum



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Loss, Mild Gore, Other, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 03:10:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12974574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TSerpillum/pseuds/TSerpillum
Summary: The little, scared girl she was unable to kill off, defending herself with cruelty, was soothed by the concern of a superior officer. A man much older and with many years of serving the military, surely having seen much more hardships, losses and despair, showing her the understanding only a loving brother could.Or this was what she wanted to believe in.





	The tales her mother told

**Author's Note:**

> After rewatching the battle of Trost, I felt the need to address the importance of Ians and Mikasas interactions. My belief is that he left a deep trace on her and that she will never forget him, though she knew him only for a few hours. I might be exaggerating, but this is solely based on my opinion and personal feelings.  
> Also, Mikasa is a very sensitive soul (her headaches I interpret as unprocessed grief and depression are also mentioned) and not only a killing maschine. She’s also not always Eren Eren Eren, so I refuse to write her as such.   
> Feedback is very much appreciated. :)

_For once, she wasn’t just the outstanding talent. The fearless soldier that excels in everything. The one that was assigned to the rear guard directly after her graduation, when skill and bravery was very much needed. They trusted and relied on her, but no one took her feelings into account. No one but him.  
_

 

_She remembered her mother and the tales she told her in the most difficult of times._

 

In the aftermath of the Battle of Trost, shredded and crushed corpses were scattered around the streets, buildings destroyed and the daily life came to a halt. As much as the citizens wanted to celebrate humanities first victory, the stench of the decaying bodies didn’t allow it. 

It has been three days already, so the last ones will be identified today, before any diseases get to break out. The recruits will try to identify as many as they can, then they will be cremated with all the useless military honours, replacing the stench of decaying bodies with the one of burnt corpses.   

Trost is defended from the titans, so it will be also defended from diseases. The small quiet district in the south made history, that is what the newspapers will tell, as well as the elders to the future generations. A titan shifter appeared, sealed the gate with a boulder no human could ever move, and then they all lived happily ever after, defeating all the titans with their mere hope and determination. A very nice story indeed, having an easy game to fool naive children.

Soldiers turned to simple pawns, not even their names will be remembered. Nothing was left to return to their families, perhaps a few letters, some spare clothes and a small perfume flask, anything to prove that this soldier lived indeed.

Mikasa and the other two recruits will try to identify as many of those who were lucky enough to have a quick death. Being hit by a boulder or being stomped is still better than being eaten alive, the recruits agreed on it.

Something inside of her has changed. Lacking the right vocabulary, she couldn’t really name it, so she spent the last three days pondering about it, ignoring the sharp sting of pain in her head.

 

_“Ackerman, get away from there!”  
_

_“Ackerman, dodge!”_

 

_The voice is still clear in her mind. Wondering if it started there, she felt shame washing over her for her reasons to fight were so selfish._

 

Amidst the battlefield she saw despair, fear, cowardice and horror. But she was also taught a lesson about dedication and bravery, a lesson of trust in your comrades who can easily become so much more than that.

Stepping on the bloodied stones, gaze roaming around the damaged homes, she hoped to find his remains. The head should be still there, somewhere to be found, if she remembered correctly. And then? His name is unknown to her, gone with the pain that shot through her head. She was sure to have said it, it left her lips in a grateful tone, the best she could bring out. Every corner in her mind where she hoped to find it was unreachable now.

Perhaps the other two recruits knew, the one who wrote down names of the bodies they could identify, seemed like he knew many soldiers of the Garrison by name. He wanted to choose this military branch and prepared himself for it. 

But weren’t the heroes in the tales her mother told her, all nameless?

Before she could act on impulse, a single arm movement stopped her. The stretched out arm, accompanied by a stern yet calming voice, saved her not only from making a grave mistake, but also many more lives, if she considered the expertise and importance of the other two elite soldiers. Judging by the way they talked to each other, they were close, maybe even good friends who faced such hardships many times before. Together.

 

_Protecting his little sister of bullies, he stands in front of her, tall and authoritative._

 

One of the wishes she never could voice to anyone was to have a brother. Strong and caring, he would protect her and her newfound family as well, taking some burden away from her shoulders. 

Unable to express her gratitude in mere words, she would do her best to make him proud, to justify him standing up for her with deeds. She would do all this, and even more. All for her family.

With her parents being long gone, it didn’t make sense. So she kept silent as she always did, fearing the rejection of her innermost thoughts, carrying on with the role of the one who is worth 1000 soldiers.

In the tales her mother told her, a hero would take the victory and live happily ever after. Songs would be sung, tales would be told, children would love to be like him, but his name would remain unknown.

 

_“Why is that so, mommy?”, she would ask curiously, earning herself a warm smile._

_“A real hero values modesty, so he lets his deeds talk for himself.”, her mother would explain, though her childish mind was unable to fully understand what that meant._

 

Once again this world proved to be completely different from all the tales she deeply loved as a child. 

Not noticing it, she strayed from her team, led by instinct she learnt to trust in.

The vain illusion of finding one of his remains needs to be shattered, she knows this. Yet she holds onto it, needing to say farewell to the man whose name her mind locked away as she ran with Armin to protect Eren. It was just a few moments before he sealed the Trost gate with the boulder he carried. Just mere moments, a few more heartbeats and a few more breaths, and he’d get to see the triumph he was responsible for.

Selfishness was never a good trait, her mother taught her to believe so, but now she wished she’d added it to her brother. At least he would have survived, sacrificing one more soldier to the titans as so many were already gone wouldn’t make any difference. One more or less, it had no significant meaning in the situation they were in. He took the victory, but unfortunately before he could see it.

Mikasa wondered how well being protective and being selfish could be reconciled, if something like this was even possible.

Not far from the sealed gate, on the spot she assumed was the one where his life ended, her legs stopped moving and her hand found its way to her scarf. Pulling it up to her nose, it caught a little tear rolling down her cheek. There was nothing left, all of him was gone somewhere out of reach, a dimension that could equate oblivion.

Never given the chance to say goodbye to the precious people who treated her as a girl she was, she feared the future and the losses she will have to suffer. First it were her parents. Then Carla, who went as far as kissing her forehead every night and giving her the love her own son was slightly jealous of, on the same day as Grisha, who offered her a new home and took care of her education. All the people who considered her feelings, caring for her and offering her the childhood they could, were gone, together with him, who saw through her cruel actions. The little, scared girl she was unable to kill off, defending herself with cruelty, was soothed by the concern of a superior officer. A man much older and with many years of serving the military, surely having seen much more hardships, losses and despair, showing her the understanding only a loving brother could. Or this was what she wanted to believe in.

The flow of her thoughts was interrupted by a shout, making her jump in surprise.

“Hey! Where did you run off? Get back to work!”, the two recruits from her team waved angrily. 

She only nodded and turned to walk away, swallowing the hesitation to put her mask back on.

 

_Whatever is lost will never be regained, so why do the tales we hear as children never tell this truth?_

 

Maybe her mother would have a good answer for this. Unfortunately, she wasn’t there to share her wisdom. No one of them was. Not even him who trusted her to make decisions according to her own wisdom, which she did not believe to have. 

For now, all she had is clarity of the world being cruel, but still beautiful after all.

_Goodbye, my brother,_ she whispered in her scarf,a faint blush spreading on her cheeks upon voicing her feelings, never to repeat them again, _I’m glad I had you, even if it was only for a few hours._


End file.
